Repossession by Lazuli Kat



Chapter 13

“You did something different, pet.”


Spike came to him, sweeping his fingers through Xander’s hair, messing up the tidiness, coming to a sudden halt as he looked from Xander’s hair to his face.  Their eyes met and held, and Xander could see the challenge in the depths of the piercing blue: want me.  Spike leant in so that the entire lengths of their bodies touched, letting Xander’s strong form take the weight, and he nuzzled Xander’s neck.

“You’re so warm, Xan.  Hot.”  His mouth crept up to Xander’s ear.  “You’re so damned hot.”

“For you,” Xander replied in the same provocative tone.  “Hot for you.  What are you going to do about it?”

Spike pulled back to meet his eyes once more, searching for the truth.

“Mean it, Xan.  Please mean it.”

Xander ran his hands over the vampire’s hips, up his powerful back, feeling the anticipation in every muscle.  And with that touch he knew he was lost, that there was no way back.

“Have me.  Take me.”

“Oh, Xander…” Spike groaned.  “Cheers, mate, I’m bloody starving.”

Xander shot up in bed with a cry of alarm as Dream Spike vamped out and sank his fangs deeply into his neck.  Before now he’d slept through being drained, and he didn’t want to go there again.  It truly was a nightmare in every sense.  If his subconscious was against his conscious self having the hots for a vampire it certainly knew the appropriate aversion techniques.  Which worked for all of thirty seconds.

In the spill of light from the hallway he could see Spike staring at him in concern, one hand wavering between them as if he wanted to comfort but wasn’t sure how to go about it.

“Bad dream,” Xander explained as he fell back onto his pillow, holding out a welcoming arm and allowing Spike to come close, head on his chest, hand sliding up under the t-shirt and finding a heartbeat, fingertips circling over the skin in a methodical pattern.  Felt nice.  Always felt nice.  But this time it felt nicer as the hand slipped lower, roving over the firm stomach, into the waistband of his boxers and…

Wake the fuck up!  Xander forced his eyes open, dislodging Spike and turning onto his side in an attempt to hide the persistent erection that now seemed a full time addition to his night.  And not just this night – every night.  They were moving at the end of the week.  Maybe a second bedroom would be a good idea, give Spike some space and take the pressure off himself.  Spike wouldn’t like it at first, but…  Spike?  Spike hadn’t followed him.  Usually the vampire took any amount of disturbance from Xander’s erratic tossing and turning, always waiting for the human to find a calm place before re-attaching himself like a devoted, purring barnacle.  But not now.  Which was good.  Less contact, less arousal, good.  Nope, never try to bullshit a bullshitter.  Not good at all.  Xander glanced over his shoulder.  Spike was lying on his back, staring at the ceiling, a look of intense concentration on his face.

“What’s wrong?”  Spike slid out of the bed and left the room.  Xander was up in a second and following.  “Spike?  What’s going on?”  Xander flicked on the living room light, finding Spike standing in the middle of the room looking…  He couldn’t decide.   Troubled?  Preoccupied?  Not an entirely happy vampire.  Spike looked around and headed for the kitchen, opening the junk cupboard and pulling a pile of odds and ends out, grabbing one of the packing boxes and methodically sorting through the assorted items.  “You want to do this now?” Xander asked.  No response.  The clock read one-twenty.  “I guess this is vampire time though.  I just got used to you sleeping my hours.”  Spike stopped what he was doing as quickly as he started, pushing the box away from him and remaining kneeling on the floor, head down, hands resting loosely on his thighs.  Xander crouched beside him.  “Don’t you want to come back to bed with me?”  He stroked Spike’s cheek and felt the vampire lean into his hand as usual.  “Is this move stressing you out?  Is that what this is about?  I woke you up and now…”  Xander sighed wearily.  “Come back to bed.”

Spike gave Xander a gentle push in the direction of the doorway, indicating that he should go.

“Is that what you want?  Some time by yourself?”  There was no answer, so Xander stood and left the room, getting as far as the hallway before turning back and pausing in the living room doorway, watching as Spike left the kitchen and found one of his books before sitting on the sofa.  He flicked through the pages without seeing, then apathetically pushed the book aside, running an irritated hand back through the rapidly growing hair which hung in loose waves around his face.  He went and turned the radio on, keeping the volume down, wandering the room as he listened to the slushy song that played.  Xander was on the verge of returning to bed when the next song came on, and he would swear that he and Spike reacted at exactly the same moment, turning to stare at the player as if it had magical powers.

‘Come into these arms again,
And lay your body down.
The rhythm of this trembling heart,
Is beating like a drum…’

“You remember this?” Xander asked as he walked into the room, crossing to where Spike stood transfixed.  “It’s from a film we used to watch.  We used to joke about it being our song.  ‘Love Song for a Vampire.’  You looked like you remembered it for a second there.”

‘Oh, loneliness, oh, hopelessness,
To search the ends of time.
For there is in all the world,
No greater love than mine…’

Spike shook his head, but Xander wanted to believe the song had touched him in some way.  And now he came to Xander, sliding his arms around Xander’s neck and holding on tightly, slightly trembling.  Xander did what he always did at moments like this: held on equally as tightly, shushing and whispering words of reassurance.  Spike reciprocated with his usual action, nuzzling the human’s neck as Xander swayed them to the music.  When the song had been in context it was an unlikely end to a long hard laugh at the expense of Keanu Reeves’ accent.  Here and now it was a poignant backdrop, and Xander recognised how hauntingly beautiful the melody was, how appropriate the emotions expressed.

Spike’s nuzzling became more deliberate, and Xander gasped at a new sensation that shot bolts of electricity through his hyped body.  The soft touch of the lips he was used to, but when those lips parted and he felt the tongue on his flesh, the gentle scrape of blunt teeth, he knew he had to stop this.  It was too much, felt too good, made Xander think the things he knew he shouldn’t be thinking.  Just get him to stop, don’t push, don’t reject, just get him to stop.

“Hey.  Hey,” he called softly, trying to get Spike’s attention.

Spike straightened up, blinking hard as he met Xander’s gaze.  Darkened eyes flicked down to Xander’s mouth, and Spike leant in.

“Hey,” Xander said for a third time, jerking his head back slightly.  “No.”  Spike stopped immediately, instantly contrite; his eyes were downcast as he slid out of Xander’s arms, turning and walking away, head ashamedly bowed.  Xander took stock, tried to pretend Spike hadn’t been about to kiss him, ignored his racing heart and fired senses, hoped his reaction hadn’t been too destructive.  Crossing to Spike once more he stroked his back with a light touch, bringing his mouth close to the vampire’s ear.

“I’m not angry.  I’m not angry, do you understand?”  Pause.  Nod.  “You’re still my Spike, my good Spike,   okay?”  Nod.

William didn’t understand what had happened, why he had done what he had done, what he was feeling, why Master had seemed unhappy with him then reassured him.  But for a moment it had been so intense, the desire for more contact, the desire to be closer, the desire…

“Come back and dance with me.”  Hot hands grabbed his and turned him.  “C’mon, Spike.”  His arms were draped around Xander’s neck and the human pressed forward, trying to catch Spike in the rhythm as he moved to the music of the innocuous song that had followed theirs.  “Dance?  For Xander?   Please?  Pretty please?  With sprinkles on?  Please, Spike, pleeeeeeeeease.  Be my all-singing, all-dancing ancient treasure.”

Spike got it.  And he smiled broadly.  Almost laughed.  Xander’s heart flipped in time with his stomach.  He pulled Spike close and hugged him, feeling a little dizzy, a lot overwhelmed by what – who – he’d seen.

“Spike,” he whispered. My Spike.”

An hour later and, although he’d managed to settle Spike down, Xander was having great trouble getting to bed knowing who was there waiting for him.

The vampire’s attempt to kiss him had been unnerving but the smile had shattered him.  He had seen his Spike in the twist of the lips, the glint in the eyes, and it had been a breath-taking moment of wonder.  The feelings he had convinced himself he could deal with, keep buried away, were clawing their way to the surface, and Xander’s desire for whole Spike, magnificent, strong, wicked Spike, coursed through his body.  He had no reason to believe that the Spike of now would reject him if he should initiate a sexual relationship, but Xander knew it was wrong.  The vampire was too compliant for him ever to be convinced there was no coercion.  Perhaps coercion was too strong a term, but…

A thought sprang into Xander’s mind.  One word.  Symbiosis.  He hurried to the kitchen, chose a sharp knife, carried on to the bedroom via the bathroom.  Spike rolled to face him, curious as Xander threw a towel onto the bed – usually a towel indicated sore feet or clean hair – but this was the wrong time and the wrong place.  When the knife was tossed onto the cabinet Spike raised an eyebrow.  That little gesture made Xander’s blood thrum; he stripped to just his boxers and lay down beside the vampire, arranging the towel under his left arm and reaching for the knife.  Without hesitation he cut open the most recent scar; the blood welled to the surface and he heard Spike gasp reflexively, saw the inborn blood-lust cross his features.  This was a fundamental part of Spike that no-one could take away, nothing could change.  His Spike.

“Drink,” Xander whispered, voice shaking with need.  “Please, Spike.”

As the swell of blood threatened to waste itself by trickling into the towel Spike moved, vampiric speed enabling him to capture the precious fluid with his tongue even as it raced over the human’s skin.  The demanding mouth fastened on the cut and drew; Xander moaned in pleasure, body electrified, cock rigid in a second.  As his hand moved to relieve the pressure he glanced at Spike.  A hint of game-face was all the stimulation it took, and Xander came hard, teeth biting into his lower lip as every muscle in his body spasmed convulsively.

Xander teetered on the edge of blacking out.  Something inside him was shouting that Spike could drain him and leave him for dead without really understanding what had happened, but oblivion was so tempting.  He could stop hurting.  Just…fade…away.

It was the arrival of Spike’s cool body draping along his entire side that pulled Xander back.  A joyful purr permeated him, stronger than he’d ever experienced before.  Spike.  Happy, in raptures, judging by the vigorous rumbling.  Wriggling to get as close as possible to Xander’s warmth.  Happy.  And…hard.  Oh, God.  Hard?  For him?  Instantly awake, wanting, Xander rolled, pushing the compliant vampire onto his back, and even as he repeatedly told himself to stop, he made his way down the fragile body, hiking up the t-shirt to worship the undamaged areas of skin with prolonged kisses, hands grasping the sweatpants and easing them down and Spike, Spike…letting him.  Letting him.  Don’t do this, don’t do this, don’t do this…  But he’s so perfect, so beautiful, his skin…  Just a taste, what I always wanted, just…  Don’t.  Do.  This.  Xander glided his cheek over the hard flesh, turning his head to brush his lips against the swollen crown, inhaling scent and flavour.  What I always wanted.

Ridiculously slowly, ecstatically, he slid his mouth over the vampire’s sturdy erection.  Spike shuddered and twitched beneath him, responding to the unrelenting attention from Xander’s mouth as the human explored and experimented, hands coming to flutter over Xander’s hair, shoulders, arms; fingernails digging sharply into hot skin before contact was lost.  An elegant, almost theatrical arch of the back and Xander felt a rush of cold semen flood his mouth.  What I always wanted.  He held it, savoured, memorised.  Spike.  Swallowed, and Spike was a part of him, inside him, at last.  ‘I know you, Xander.  You’d never take advantage of anyone, especially someone you love.’  Reluctantly withdrawing, bewildered as to how something so good could make him feel so bad, he laid his forehead against a jutting hip bone.  Wrong, wrong, wrong.

“I love you.  Spike, I love you.”  Fuck the silence, fuck it!  He’d wanted an utterance, a groan as the vampire reached his release.  For God’s sake, Harris, be honest.  He wanted words of love.  “You’re everything to me.  I love you.”

After gently adjusting the vampire’s clothes Xander sat up, feeling lost and tearful.  Bad.   Wrong.

“I have to…go clean up,” he said weakly, guiltily, too ashamed to glance at the vulnerable creature he had so deliberately used.

Taking the towel and knife Xander left the room.

William didn’t watch him go: he lay in absolute stillness, arms thrown wide, head tilted back into the pillow, wallowing in the amazing sensations that were almost too wonderful to be real.  The depth of Master’s affection.  Blood.  Pleasure.  Love.  His trust had not been misplaced: he had always known that Master would choose exactly the right moment for the stirrings to be dealt with, and tonight they had been nigh impossible to cope with because of the constant and delicious scent from the human.  Alleviation was sheer bliss.

The vampire shuddered as something basic within him unfurled and expanded, something that whispered of safety and homecoming.  Abrupt heightened awareness of the burning that constantly tormented him, and William instinctively flexed his body; tiny spots of blood appeared as splinters were forced through the surface of his skin and ejected.  His fingers scrabbled at his throat as he tried to grasp the tip of the thick shard that had been brutally rammed into his vocal cords, and after several frustrating attempts he had the point between his nails.   Grip slipping with the blood, eyes watering at the pain, he dragged it out and lay panting as he stared at the substantial chip.  Another shudder, deep and massive.  His body delivered an unexpected burst of healing.

William waited expectantly, somewhat fearfully, for new sensations, but the something basic receded, leaving him weak and exhausted.  Wearily groping for the covers, he pulled them over his body and huddled down.  The scent of Master surrounded him and he remembered and loved.  Sore but contented, William took a deep breath, dismissed these new occurrences and concentrated on his master, letting the soporific effects of his gifts wash over him as he relaxed into sleep.  Smiling.  Seconds before unconsciousness claimed him, a fractured wisp of sound was lost in the night’s silence.